


Me, You, the Meteor

by aactionjohnny



Series: watch/ward [2]
Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Outer Space, Relationship Reveal, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-04 13:57:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16348013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aactionjohnny/pseuds/aactionjohnny
Summary: They've got a powerful love and the poorest of timing.Watch and Ward have to deal with trying to keep their relationship a secret from the Council.





	1. Just Like TV

They’ve got a powerful love and the poorest of timing. Couldn’t they have hooked up weeks ago, when they knew they’d have plenty of time alone? Days on end up the sun never setting, so they could be awake all hours, together? But no, dumbasses, they had to share that first kiss on the eve of the Council’s arrival. They had to cling to one another over the array of stars just hours before they would never have a moment’s peace.

It’s just like it is on TV. You just can’t keep your hands off each other. They work, or they try to. They sleep, or they try to, all entwined and mumbling silly things.  _ You were cute when I met you. I ignored it _ . 

The morning of the meeting, they toil away, setting up the council chamber. Brewing carafe upon carafe of coffee, stacking folders and documents and arranging pens just-so in their mugs, shining with the Guild logo.

Ward stands, posture poor as ever, next to the bookshelf that holds all the Guild handbooks. Old iterations of the law, chronicled. A veritable encyclopedia of villainy, he alphabetizes. He sighs, gravelly voice so tired from nights spend awake, and then feels strong fingers curl around his waist.

“Hey…” Watch is all coy, all those smitten feelings hidden beneath leagues of toughness. He rests his forehead on Ward’s shoulder. 

“Hi…” They’re only brave in the nighttime. They can only whisper sweet nothings when the lights are off. “Don’t you have work to--”

Before he can chide him, he’s turned, pushed not-so gently into the bookshelf, those rough hands now squeezing his belted waist. As if Watch needs to work so hard to keep him trapped. It’s a kiss as needy as all the rest; even their most chaste of affections seem loaded with years of quiet want. It’s bubbling over like boiling. Ward tosses his arms over Watch’s shoulders, dropping onto the floor an old, dusty copy of  _ Calamitous Intent: A History _ . Red Mantle will fucking kill him. But he sighs, easing into it, smiling against Watch’s lips, nearly giggling like a schoolchild at the  _ badness _ of it. 

But they’re villains, aren’t they? The prodigal  _ sons _ of villains. It can’t be the first time someone’s messed around where they shouldn’t.

“Hn…” Watch grunts, if softly, tilting his hips, glad that they’re about the same height. So far it’s been clothes on, hands barely wandering. Like they’re shy about it, like they’ve never even thought about it. It’s not as if he’s never fooled around with a dude before. He went to college just like everyone else. 

But this is _different_. This is his favorite person, in the world and above it. It’s hard-- _ha,_ _hard_ \-- to let himself just enjoy it. To forget that it matters what he does, that he’ll be here, on this meteor, with this man, for god knows how long. But goddammit, if it doesn’t feel so right. Pressed against each other as if he’s trying to break the barrier of his skin. Ward’s hands pulling at his tight hood to get to his hair like forbidden territory. Watch grips onto that red collar, pulling it away some, daring to drag his lips over the smooth muscle of his skinny neck.

This is the third time today. This is familiar but new. Every time there’s silence, a break in their work, they’re on each other like predator and a willing, suicidal prey. 

Just then there is a ringing noise, so loud it shakes their ribs, throughout the chamber.

_ Shuttle arriving at Docking Bay C. Please initiate boarding protocol. _

“Fuck,” Ward laments, his fingers gripping onto Watch’s shoulders as if simply clinging to him can delay what they’re responsible for.

They rest their foreheads together and breathe. There’s so much they should be saying. It’s different, being on the same page when you’re friends, being on the same page when you’re. _..whatever _ . But no matter how they rehearse it in their heads, it sounds fucking stupid.

“We need to go let them in,” Watch says, pulling away, giving Ward an apologetic look.

“Just give me a minute. I uh...let me think about Antonin Scalia or something…” Ward begs, covering his eye and his goggle with his gloved palms. 

“That’s your go-to?” Watch asks, letting his hands regretfully fall to his sides as he walks away. “I’ve been focusing on the bathtub scene from  _ The Shining _ .” 

“Augh when she turns all old and shit? Nasty.”

And just like that, they can be like they used to. As if nothing’s changed and there’s nothing to say.

 

__

 

Ward enters the passcode to open the airlock, and they give one another one last desperate glance as the bell chimes. Watch, standing upright and full of decorum, salutes the council members as they enter. Dr. Mrs. The Monarch, looking regal as ever. Limb, dressed like he’s on a fucking yacht. Dr. Z, still in the middle of some old tale about the  _ good old days _ . Red Mantle and Dragoon, ignoring him in favor of arguing over how to take their coffee.

And Red Death, walking solitary, casting a terrifying heat over the both of them as they greet him.

“Gentlemen,” the villain bellows, nodding his head.

“Mr. Death, sir,” they say in unison.

They have time to mingle before they’re supposed to get down to business, so everyone helps themselves to the continental breakfast. Dr. Mrs., chewing politely on a danish, greets them with a stoic but friendly smile.

“You boys been behaving?”

“Uh--” Watch coughs. “Why? Are we usually not?”

“...I was just making conversation,” she says, squinting at them. “What did you do?”

“E-everything is under control on the station, ma’am. We managed not to contact the devil or anything!”

“Good. And no  _ Wrath of Khan _ kind of shit either?”

“Nothing of the sort, Doctor,” Ward insists, quick to place a hand at her back and guide her toward the bookshelf he so diligently organized-- oh. Except for that. The vintage copy of one of their most important texts. Panicked, he bends down to pick it up, turning his head back and forth to make sure no one sees except for the good doctor.

“Dry, isn’t it? I had to read it before they let me sign my papers,” she says, absently accepting a cup of coffee from Phantom Limb. Suck-up. He acts like he doesn’t still try to impress her.

“I, uh...yeah, I skimmed it. Don’t tell on me, but I bullshitted my way through my paper,” Ward tells her. He’d wink, if anyone could tell.

“We all did,” she informs him with a smile. “So…”

“...so…”

“Has it been fun? Hanging out with your...your  _ bro? _ ”

“We’ve been hard at work ma’am.” He winces at his accidental double-entendre. Shit.

“Good.” She pats him maternally on the cheek. “We were theorizing about what state Meteor Majeure would be in by the time we arrived. But you’ve really kept the place nice.”

Across the room, Watch is cornered by Dr. Z, manically stirring his coffee with a piece of biscotti like he doesn’t care that it will just turn into a soggy mess.

“So, agent Watch. How have things been developing?” he asks, grinning cryptically. 

“D...developing?” he asks, clutching tight onto his empty napkin, covered only with donut crumbs. He’s a nervous snacker.

“When last I saw the two of you I imparted some wise advice on your...partner. I had to wonder if he took my words to heart.”

“He didn’t mention anything to me.”

“Fools! Little boys!” In a sudden burst of anger, he whips his prepared notes out of his pocket and whacks Watch in the head with it.

“Please, everyone, enough socializing,” Limb says, his voice loud within the chamber. “We need to get to work.”

No one dares roll their eyes, but you can feel it in the air.

 

__

 

Seated at their little table, they struggle to look at one another. Every gaze is different now. Every smile is loaded. Every innocuous brushing of their toes together sends a shiver across the surface of the table. The meeting seems muffled, drowned out, and yet it seems to take forever. As if time slows down when they want one another, when they gather sappy things to say.

Things go smooth as they can, the topics of discussion so mundane and simply the two of them hardly have to offer their input, and the meeting is adjourned. Eager to see them all out, they slide out their chairs with that deafening squeak and make their way toward the exit.

“Oh no, boys, we’ll be staying a few days, you know,” Limb says, politely pushing in his chair and tossing his coat over his shoulder, held by one invisible hand. “It’s a drill, really, to get us used to living here should we have to evacuate Earth.”

Watch bites the insides of his cheeks. Wonderful, now he’ll have to spend hours familiarizing them all with the layout, the functions.

“Great,” Ward says, his bravest smile on, clapping his hands together. “We’ll show you to your rooms…” He strides toward Dr. Z, Red Mantle, and Dragoon, and turns his head back to Watch as they walk away. His eye is wide and his lips pout. They’ll have to act as if they’re not disappointed if they don’t want people asking questions.

_ Antonic Scalia, _ he reminds himself as he barrels too eagerly into the corridor. He’ll have to think of anything but the feeling of hands on his skin, lips on his neck. Anything but all the sweet secrets he’s been keeping for far too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made a fuckin
> 
> Event Horizon reference


	2. Jump-Cuts, Act Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some mild nsfw near the end of this one

His fists balled and clenched, Watch leads the other three council members down the corridor to their quarters. Quite a bit larger and more immaculate than where he sleeps, but he guesses that makes sense. Kiddie table, you know.

He’s walked these halls a lot in the past few weeks. Every space he goes is filled with recent memory, and he fights a smile. They’re perceptive, and suspicious, the council. Especially Limb. Asshole.

This is the metal panelled wall that Ward pushed him against, brave and tipsy and tired. This is the futurist painting that they hated together. He knows his counterpart is just on the other side of the station, and yet it feels like he’s missing him. There is a despairing anxiety in his throat, as if he’ll never see him again though he knows that soon, so soon, they’ll be together again.

“This is your room, Mr. Death,” Watch says, scanning his retina to open the door. “Don’t worry, once you log your own eye into the system it won’t open for anyone else.”

“I would love to stay and chat, but I have to call my family. Agent Watch, thank you.” He bids his colleagues a polite goodbye, as always. Watch blinks; it’s as if, even though he knows the man is kind in his heart, he still expects to be threatened with vaporization at any given moment.

Phantom Limb is also eager to rest, but doesn’t even bother shaking anyone’s hand, or giving Dr. Mrs. The Monarch his usual peck on the cheek.

“What’s eating him, ma’am?” Watch dares to ask, offering his arm to her. He knows it’s stupid, that she can handle herself, but he does adore how pleased she looks when she’s so respected. She softly hooks her hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Same as usual. Can’t get everyone on his side,” she tells him, clearly stifling an eyeroll.

“What’s he trying to get done?”

She snorts and shakes her head as Watch unlocks her quarters.

“It’s petty. And he’s pretending he’s doing it for the right reasons. But he uh…” She pinches the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “He wants to enforce strict regulations on intra-Guild relationships.”

“F--” The timing is incredible. “You’re kidding. But what about--”

“My marriage? I’m hoping we’ll be _grandfathered_ in or something. But Hamilton is just being stuffy, like always.”

“I um...the Point Five would vote against that motion, ma’am.”

“Well yeah, _obviously_.”

Watch feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Wh-- what do you mean?”

She motions him into her quarters, mumbling something about a cup of tea.

“I mean that you two aren’t a couple of bureaucrats,” she says fondly, offering him a seat in her small lounge, setting her suitcase down near the entranceway. “You’re up here for the right reasons, not to...I dunno, be important.”

“Yeah...thanks…”

She waves him off, and it makes him feel more at ease. She’s his boss, but he’s her confidante. Ward, too.

“What um…” He coughs and laces his fingers between his knees. “What kind of regulations are we talking?”

She clicks on the electric kettle and rifles through the pre-stocked cabinets.

“Oh you know, tons of paperwork. Compulsory disclosure. Review by the council to make sure your relationship isn’t detrimental to the Guild.”

The way she says it, it almost sounds reasonable. But _she’s_ reasonable.

“That...actually doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Well yeah, on the surface. It’s like any other business. But people aren’t going to like it, and...I mean, how the hell am _I_ going to tell couples they have to break up? People weren’t exactly happy about The Monarch and I.” There’s a rare softness in her voice when she says his name. Watch knows, now, why it feels familiar. He too, is soft for one person only.

They share their tea and some idle gossip. The caffeine makes him feel a little giddy, as he’s used to the short-lived burst of energy from coffee. Tea is a slower burn. It sneaks up on you. He feels as if he’s brimming with the news, the truth. He finds he’s eager to see the satisfied smile on her face when he tells her. _That thing you probably thought was happening? Well, it happened. And it’s distracting_.

“Anyway, Agent Watch…” she says, stretching her neck. “I’m sure you’ve got things to do. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

She bids him goodbye with a squeeze to his arm. When she closes the door behind him he feels as if he exhales for the first time that day. He didn’t tell her, and it’s probably for the best. He’s not even sure Ward would want anyone knowing…

 

__

 

Ward, fatigued from all the politeness, is glad to lead the final council member to his room. Dr. Z, always watching him with that thin smile. When they get to his door, Ward is eager to turn around and leave, go find Watch, complain with his head in his lap, but--

“Young man.” Dr. Z, unforgiving, grabs him by the shoulder, pinching, and drags him into the dimly lit room. “You have not heeded my advice.”

“...well--”

“Soon you will be too old to get it up! What is your _major malfunction?_ ”

“ _Jesus,_ Dr. Z…” Ward winces, wanting to think of anything but _that_. He coughs and wrings his hands, anxiously eyeing the door as if he has any chance of making an escape. “I...we...it happened, okay? Don’t gloat.”

“Ahh!” The old man clasps his hands together in glee. “I must call Mrs. Z and tell her the good news. She loves young love as much as I do--”

“Actually, sir…” Overstepping his bounds, Ward grabs him gently by the arm. “We aren’t...telling people yet.”

“And why not?”

He shrugs, his mouth open despite the lack of an answer. He doesn’t even know. He’d assumed it had to be on the down low, assumed that Watch would be incensed and embarrassed were people to find out…

His headset beeps and blinks and he mutters an _oh thank god_ under his breath, pressing the button on the lens. It’s Watch, looking just as haggard.

“Hi…” Ward tries not to moon over the sight of him.

“Hey there~” Watch practically sings. “You done putting the old folks to bed?”

“Um--”

Dr. Z scoffs and whacks Ward with his stack of papers. He’s met with a useless protest.

“Just get back here, alright? Gotta um...talk to you.”

“Be right there…” He clicks off his communicator and looks at Dr. Z, pleading to let him go and just drop it.

“Enjoy your _talk_ , young man.”

 

__

 

Ward enters their shared room to find Watch pacing. His anxious meandering stops though, once he turns and grabs Ward for a kiss. It’s as if he’s been away at _war_ or something. But it’s short lived, and they trade their passion for sweetness, foreheads resting together once again as they catch their breath.

“That was excruciating,” Ward says.

“Yeah, I really thought we’d get to be alone…” Watch walks backward, pulling him by the wrist to sit upon the lower bunk. “It’s not terrible, though. I got to talk to Dr. Mrs. The Monarch for a bit.”

“Oh…” The pride in Watch’s voice makes Ward feel a little squeamish. He knows about that crush they both have had on her forever, but he figured that _now_ \-- “What about?”

Watch takes a long breath, tapping his fingers on the mattress, and then he bends one knee and turns to Ward with an earnest look on his face.

“Are we telling people about this?” he asks frankly, but surprisingly calm.

“I dunno...are we?” There’s the smallest tremor in Ward’s voice. He’s certain, for a moment, that Watch will want to keep it secret out of shame, out of professionalism. He guesses that’s the right call.

“~I dunno whada _you_ wanna do~” Watch mocks.

Ward snorts, glad of the levity.

“Dr. Z already knows,” he admits.

“I almost told Dr. Mrs. The Monarch…”

Ward’s shoulders slope in relief. He hates feeling jealous, as if he has any right to be. But if Watch wants _her_ to know, doesn’t care that Dr. Z knows…

“Then let’s tell them. I mean...if they _call_ on us…” he jests, raising his hand like he’s in a classroom.

“Yeah, we’ll...we’ll tell ‘em…” Watch agrees, drifting closer on the small mattress, leaning his face in the curve of Ward’s neck. There’s a telltale shiver through both of them, and it shakes them both onto the bed. Ward on his back again, Watch at his side running a hand up his leg. There’s something so teenage about it, the shyness of their touch. How are they going to tell the council if they can’t even be honest with each other?

Ward decides he’s tired of acting like he _doesn’t_ want what he so clearly wants, so he grips Watch’s collar and pulls him closer, on top of him, opening his jaw. It’s sloppy and ungraceful, but he’s not sure how else to show him. Not sure how else to make him know he could devour him with love, without having to say it aloud.

His gaze baffled, at first, by the sudden passion, Watch allows himself to be maneuvered. Eventually he eases, accepting that tongue, those teeth, hands surrounding Ward’s waist, his chest, his neck. It’s as if there is simply not _enough_ of him, skinny thing. Just those few short hours apart, and he’s ravenous. Grinning into their kiss, he tilts his hips, just-so, just enough to get that pleased sigh from his-- _whatever he is_ \-- his lips. He’s becoming familiar with those sounds, and his own. He’s never heard his pleasure sound so much like gravelly crooning. Like if Tom Waits was a sex noise.

He doesn’t want to think about Tom Waits. Or Antonin Scalia or that scene from The Shining.

He wants to make room for one hand between them and drag his fingers over those many belts, down between Ward’s thighs to appraise him. He chuckles some, amused that he’s already getting hard.

“Shut up--” Ward says, clearly afraid of his teasing. His face is so red…

“I wasn’t making fun of you,” Watch claims.

“Better not be. Is that a gun in your pocket or--”

Before he can cast off his lustfulness with a lame joke, he’s kissed again. He doesn’t mind being shut up that way. He doesn’t mind how Watch’s hand feels him through his pants, stroking up and down. Ward’s fingers dig into Watch’s back as if he’ll fall off the bed, as if white-knuckling at high speed. It’s...scarier than he’d like to admit. In bed with his best friend, overflowing with want, getting to _first-fucking-base_ in a tiny bunk bed like a college student.

But it’s happening, and he knows he ought to let it. There is no one around to see, no one around to scold. He’s not even sure they’d get in trouble, but “Phantom Limb seeing my raging erection” is not on his to-do list.

Ward wraps his arms around Watch’s waist and pulls him closer, shivering at the feeling of them both, rigid and twitching, having no choice but to grind into one another. Teenage, stupid, a cop-out. But goddammit, it makes their toes curl.

They’re startled by a loud beep and a flashing red light.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me--” Watch growls, making a fist and trying not to punch the mattress in frustration.

“Attention!” Dr. Mrs. The Monarch’s rough voice echoes over the intercom, and they both wince.

“Cock-blocked by our boss.”

“Again.”

“There will be an emergency meeting of the Five Point Five in ten minutes in the main council chamber. This is a Guild-wide crisis. Report to the chamber. Ten minutes. Attendance is mandatory.”

They groan, and Watch bends his head down into the mattress beside Ward’s, who spreads his shaky arms onto the bed in defeat.

“Is it bad that I uh...kind of wanna risk losing my job right now?” Ward jests, looking forlornly at the door.

“I do too, but we gotta go…” Watch laments, righting himself and straightening out his hood and his clothes.

“I need a minute…”

“Me too.” 

They give one another a sympathetic look. Hand in hand, they take some breaths and try to get themselves out of their mutual mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dsjfhjdsghjkdf i'm so sorry boys
> 
> comments always appreciated. i love this ship so much.


End file.
